


Getting Home

by Kitcat300



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Flynn's got problems, He's a man on a mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28014528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitcat300/pseuds/Kitcat300
Summary: Flynn made Lucy a promise that he's finding hard to keep.1 shot because the song 'One More Sleep' won't get out of my head.
Relationships: Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston
Comments: 16
Kudos: 28





	Getting Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [princessamerigo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessamerigo/gifts).



> A big thank you to Princessamerigo for reading through my work and telling me it’s not awful. :)

** 5 **

Fuck it was cold. 

Flynn blew on his fingers to try and bring back some sensation. If he wasn’t careful he’d lose one. Whose great idea was it to come to Bankso in the height of winter? Sure, if he’d been there for the skiing… As if Denise would send him to Bulgaria to ski.

 _“It’s a simple in and out.”_ She’d said, tactfully not reminding him he didn’t have the right of refusal. Five years. That’s what he’d agreed to. Five long years and then he was free and clear.

If he could get the fucking car started.

Failure was not an option. He’d promised Lucy and he’d never broken a promise to her. He wasn’t going to start now. So if he had to push the damn thing he was getting off the lower slopes. How hard could it be to repair an alternator in the middle of a snow storm?

** 4  **

The car was a dead loss. Normally Flynn might be given to admire the former durability of the cold war communist vehicle but with everything on it officially deceased his boyhood fondness could take a hike. Just like him.

Knee deep snow. Of course. Not ankle deep, not even calf deep but knee deep snow. 

Not that it was going to stop him. 

He’d followed the marked runs as far as he could but with visibility dropping by the second he’d been forced into the trees. Good thing he’d had an emergency pack. It would be better if he could find a cabin or some shelter but if needs must he had the pop-up tent. It would break the wind chill for a while. Just as soon as he could find some place safe to pitch it.

Getting back to town was the priority. He could still make his connection. There was time yet.

_Hold on Lucy, I’m coming._

** 3 **

The morning was bright but all that did was emphasise how far he had yet to go. A quick calculation told him it would be evening in San Francisco. Lucy would have lit the fire. He could picture her curled up on the sofa, the blanket Denise had knit covering her legs while she squinted at a book and pretended she didn’t need glasses. He’d give a lot to be there with her right now.

If he had a phone he’d have called and let her know he was alright. He’d have told her he was working on it. He’d have said don’t worry, I promised. 

He was getting closer to civilisation. The snow had stopped. But the clock was ticking.

Were the roads clear? If he did make it to Bankso and out again how long would it take to get to the airport in Sofia? Two hours on a good day. If the past couple of days had taught him anything it was that today was not likely to be a good day.

He swigged the snow-melt he’d collected, took a bite of his food rations. He’d make town today. Get to the airport. He could be home in 24 hours.

** 2 **

It was going to be more like forty eight hours. It wasn’t good but it was doable.

All the rooms in the resort were taken. He’d had to bribe a farmer on the outskirts. Damn but he’d miss that watch. 

A new morning. A new day. The good news – he could have his pick of hire cars. The bad news – there was no access out of the resort until an estimated late afternoon. The snow ploughs were working on it.

Lucy wasn’t answering her phone. He’d called every couple of hours without luck. Was it Wednesday? She’d be at lunch with Jiya and Rufus. They’d be sat around a messed up table that needed a damn good clean – tidy space, tidy mind – eating tacos because Taco Tuesday was overrated. The office would have enough colourful lights hung up to guide him home if all else failed. 

He couldn’t wait much longer. Inactivity was killing him. He needed to get home. There were only thirty six hours left.

** 1 **

Every man, woman, child and goat had moved into the airport. Okay, maybe not the goats but certainly everyone else. Getting a ticket on the flight to Paris was better than winning the lottery.

Only a fool flew on Christmas Eve.

Sofia shrank into the distance but the snow clouds stuck. Economy sucked. Flynn’s knees were about as high as his shoulders. He had to do long multiplication to stop himself growling at the man in front who kept lowering and raising his seat. But he couldn’t get kicked off the flight. He had to get home to Lucy.

Charles de Gaul was just as crowded. Families meeting and greeting. Weary business suits shuffling their wheelie cabin bags. Bright-eyed twenty somethings travelling for the holidays.

Flynn’s only thought was Lucy. 

She’d have finished the wrapping by now. Put aside her marking until the New Year. Was she trying to bake again? If he could only get home he’d eat whatever she made, even if it killed him.

At least the stopover was only an hour. A short, compact ride to Amsterdam. Another airport. Another wave of people. Another delay in getting home.

_“Due to poor weather conditions we regret…”_

Two hours. A two hour delay. For the first time in years Flynn was tempted to smoke. The No Smoking signs wouldn’t stop him. The lack of a cigarette did.

Final boarding took a lifetime. _“Would passengers Bertram and Brown please make their way to Gate 23. This is the last call for passengers Bertram and Brown.”_

They missed their take off slot and had to wait a further thirty minutes. There was no way Denise was getting a gift this year.

ETA put them wheels down 11:22pm. In the only lucky move of the entire nightmarish job they landed seven minutes early.

It didn’t clear the line for a cab. 

He wasn’t going to make it.

“Need a ride cowboy?”

Nothing had ever sounded so good as Lucy’s amused question. He was so tired he could hardly make her out but then his vision cleared and she was all he could see. Soft brown waves. Smiling brown eyes. Perfect porcelain skin and that look. The one that said he was all she could see too.

“What are you doing here?”

She slid up to him, wrapped her arms around his neck. “I made Denise tell me where you were. Did you know they’ve had more snow in Bulgaria this last week than at any time in the past six years?”

“I would never have guessed.”

“You promised me you’d see Christmas in with me this year. Thank you for keeping your promise.”

He hugged her tight. “Anything for you Lucy.”


End file.
